


Legacy

by Tene_draws



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Wild (Linked Universe)-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tene_draws/pseuds/Tene_draws
Summary: Inspired by the botw-Hamilton 'History has it's eyes on you' animatic.After it all ends, Wild ensures that heroes have a legacy.
Comments: 61
Kudos: 328





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the LU discord for inspiring me to come up with this!

Wild was the last to leave when it was over

He braced himself and prepared. Prepared to forget it all. Closing his eyes as he stepped into the golden swirling portal into the cool crisp air of his Hyrule. 

Wild was the last one.  
.  
.  
.  
It ended far too soon. With grandiose fanfare and a great battle that the history books would weep to not record. Wild wasn’t used to that. 

When he had defeated Ganon, the land had gone quiet. As if Mother Nature herself was holding her breath. The birds, the bugs, the entire ruins of the kingdom were quiet. He and Zelda had endured days of this stunned silence in their travel until they reached the Zora domain. Only then did was there any form of celebration. It turned out that people were afraid that the disappearance of the swirling darkness was a sign that it had escaped. They were all holding their breaths, waiting in tense silence to fight or die. They made sure word of their victory spread fast after that. 

With this. There was no time to wait for a celebration. In truth, there was no real time for it. Once it was over; once the final blow was struck. That was it. And before they had time to even recover from their wounds, Hylia herself had appeared to whisk them all back home, back to their own time in history, with the promise none of it would be remembered. Well, they had all collectively said, fuck Hylia!

At least, that was the impression Wild had gotten when Time had declared there was no rush to go back just yet. No rush to forget. Wild knew; no rush to say goodbye. 

Confined to their battlefield and meager rations; they rejoiced in their victory. Like giddy fools; they sang, told stories, joked and acted like the tiny cupcake he had managed to just barely whip up was as grand as a three tiered cake. Well, to Four, it very well could be once he shrunk down. He watched them. Tried very much not to commit each and every part of them to memory. 

Tried not to remember Time’s easy going smile as he shed his armor and toasted milk instead of liquor. Looking so much younger than he was, a burden lifted away from his chest. His wedding ring catching in the glint of the firelight. 

Tried not to remember the way Wind had grabbed the entire flask of noble pursuit, stood on a log; declaring he was a pirate with a cheeky grin and eyes the color of the sea. Before he chugged it down much to the horror of Twilight. Tried not to remember how hard he laughed seeing his mentor jump up to stop him only for Legend to yell crassly at him to stop his mothering a moment. Tried not to commit the hoarse note of Legend’s voice; dulled by drink and trying to rib Warriors into letting him take his polished sword for his horde. 

Four was still finishing his cake, or rather swimming in it while Sky kept a protective watch to make sure he wasn’t accidentally squashed himself. The Master Sword, out of her sheath, by his side. Glowing brightly as he chatted with the minish sized Four. Hyrule, next to himself, looking over the compendium in his slate; the dark of his eyes practically glowing with the slate as he asked Wild question after question about every creature he had captured. Wild answered them all, tagging on stories of nearly falling off cliffs or hanging upside down from branches to capture every image. He tried not to remember those either. 

In the morning, he’d have to deal with forgetting a lot more than just that night. He’d have to deal with forgetting another family.  
.  
.  
So it was, he was the last one to leave that day. A morning farewell dragged onto the afternoon, then the evening, then night. Until their dwindling supplies told them they could stay no longer. Even then, he stayed another day. Leaning against a tree stump, ignoring the swirling golden vortex behind him as he concentrated on the images in his slate. Pictures he had taken of all of them; all throughout their journey. 

Candid shots, group shots, shots that Legend and Warrior would yell at him to delete. He smiled, thumbing over an image of them both running from the flower lady at Hila Rao Shrine; after they had thought presenting her with a bouquet of cut flowers would be a good idea. 

They had both left at the same time. Some kind of solidarity struck between them to walk through their own portals together. Time had been first. No one could blame him for wanting to see Malon. Then the two of them. Then Sky, then Wind and Four. Hyrule had been the last to go; at least, the last he had seen to go. Twilight… left a little earlier than him. 

Wild closed his eyes; trying not to recapture the memory of goodbye; “Goodbye Cub. Goodbye.”

He knew he’d have to leave eventually. Forget eventually. Still, he stayed another day; drinking the last of their water skins instead of food. Flicking through his slate like a toddler absorbed in a book. Relieving every memory in the album once; twice, then three more times over until he couldn’t ignore the grumbling of his stomach any longer. Or how sick he was getting of using stealth potions as hydration. 

Hylia wouldn’t let him leave to forage. He didn’t even think there was anything around to forage; the scars of their battle had ravaged this land indeed. There was only one way to go.  
.  
He stood in front of the portal; gear packed, armor polished and hair tied up messily slung in a ponytail over his shoulder. Through the swirling golden rings; he could catch glimpse of the ruins of The Great Plateau. A nervous anticipation settled in the stiffness of his bones and the emptiness of his stomach. 

It wasn’t that, he didn’t want to go home. No, there were people he wanted to see. People whom he missed and missed him in return; Zelda, Sidon, Impa, Purah..

It was his home. Is his home. He knew he couldn’t have gone adventuring with his past incarnations forever, but he hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much. Hadn’t expected to feel like… he belonged so securely to others; to family. With the others, he hadn’t been Link; failed hero given one more chance, he didn’t want, to redeem himself. Link; a dead man’s name from a hundred years ago. No, he was Wild. 

Wild was his own. It was whoever he wanted to be, whoever he made himself to be. Wild had a family he hadn’t forgotten, Wild had a burden he didn’t have to bear all by himself. Wild was free and fun and loved to cook for others and.. Wild was just Wild. 

But now, Wild would die too. Alongside those memories. 

He ignored the tears trailing down his cheek. He had put it off long enough, delayed it too much. He was being selfish. His Hyrule needed him still; he couldn’t wallow away from it forever. Couldn’t make Zelda wait another hundred years. His bark of laughter surprised him, the pressure in his chest lightening a moment at the dumb joke. Seizing that moment of clarity he forced himself to step forward into the light.  
.  
.  
.  
Wild was the last to leave when it was over

He braced himself and prepared. Prepared to forget it all. Closing his eyes as he stepped into the golden swirling portal into the cool crisp air of his Hyrule. 

Wild was the last one. 

He didn’t forget.


	2. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt this chapter was a little bit draggy. You could probably skip this one to the next one without missing out on anything, but I wanted to just write this out to explore a bit of Wilds character. I've only played Breath of the Wild so I'm trying to learn more about the other characters. Please tell me if I got any of the timelines wrong.

They had tried to pinpoint their relation to each other at one point. Tried to work out the ‘timeline’ so to speak. It had been Sky’s idea; if only because he knew he was the first chosen one. Maybe, if only because he felt a sense of guilt at their doomed cycle. How could anyone blame him? Not even Hylia knew what would happen. 

So they had all sat down around a giant pit of loose dirt and tried to map out exactly the history of Hyrule, of heroes and demons, of princesses and goddesses. Sky came first, obviously. Twilight could easily name Time as his ancestor for reasons then unknown. Wind could list Time’s history and Hyrule could tell of a tragedy sprung from that history and so could Legend. Four held myths only Twilight could know, seeing as he was the one that made them. Warrior seemed to be able to list stories from several of their eras and the revelation that time had been fractured severely certainly didn’t help. 

It would take a bloody theorist to solve their history, that or an official guide by Hylia herself! Even then, that had left the mystery of where Wild fit in.   
Warriors after looking at the crudely drawn branching timeline in the sand had rubbed his chin and then declared that Wild must’ve been after everyone else, when the timelines were all somehow tied together. 

After all, the stories they told were all but forgotten whispers in his time; too vague to have their own history, but certainly alluding to each hero’s adventures. Time pointed out that there were several hills, lakes and structures named after people they had known; people that had to have lived before then. He glossed over the ruins. 

What’s more, the Calamity was… unheard of, in any of their histories. Even Hyrule’s own desolate area. The Calamity, the divine beasts, 10,100 years of supposed history were unknown to any of them, yet a part of all their histories were merged into Wild’s world where the cycle of the hero was already known. With a nod, Sky took up the sharpened stick and drew Wild’s name down right at the bottom of the table. 

And while everyone had breathed a sigh of relief and decided not to think of the timelines any further, Wild had stood there. Staring at the sand and the crude drawing. So, he was the last of them all. He, had never given any thought to that. The idea that, he was their latest incarnation. The hero’s legacy in a failure. A story, yet unwritten, by any descendant that could’ve come after him. The weight on his shoulders suddenly felt much heavier as he glanced over the others getting ready to sleep. 

Their legacy. He was their legacy.   
.  
Maybe that was why he remembered. Had he the Triforce of Wisdom; he could’ve reasoned that there was no reason to make him forget. He had no descendant, no others history he could somehow upset or manipulate by remembering. Maybe the Goddess hadn’t wanted to spare the energy to make him forget. Maybe, she had made no one forget. 

Wild stood in the field of The Great Plateau, stunned, as he stared at the bright blue sky overhead him. His veins felt icy like he had just dipped himself into a Zora cold spring. His breath was caught in his throat and his knuckles were turning white as they gripped his slate; his slate! He hurriedly tapped it’s surface, eyes pained by the glare that flared up as he stumbled over his own fingers to the album. If he remembered then that meant, maybe- 

No. 

His eyes widened as he stared at the empty album. His breath hitching in his throat as he kept trying to scroll across nothingness. The only thing that remained were the pictures from before he-Wild, before Wild was born. Before he left Hyrule with the others. Zelda’s pictures were still there, but everything was.. gone. Completely empty. Forgotte-No. No, not forgotten. He remembered. He gasped. 

He remembered Time! He remembered Twilight! He remembered Four, Wind, Sky, Legend, Warriors and Hyrule! He remembered what they all liked to eat! And if he concentrated hard enough, he remembered their faces when they first learned he could cook. He remembered Twilight calling him Cub, he remembered Wind trying out his paraglider and nearly crashing into a tree! He remembered Hyrule and the way he’d tut and heal his wounds like someone from so long ago. He remembered them! He remembered! He remembered! 

He couldn’t forget. Not that. Not his family. If this was some cruel joke by Hylia that he’d wake up tomorrow forgetting, then.. then- they had already defied her once. With shaking hands, he opened up the slate to his log. Eyes burning with stinging tears, he fell into the soft grass. On his knees, hurriedly writing in everything he could remember into the slate. She could erase the pictures when he stepped through the portal, but maybe.. maybe she wouldn’t see this. Maybe, she would overlook his hasty notes, written so haphazardly, he wasn’t sure he knew what he was writing. 

Their names. Little descriptive words that he tied to them scribbled into the logs.

Time; grumpy, father, Malon.   
Twilight; Wolf, Horse, Mentor  
Legend: Rude, Caring, Pink  
Wind: Carefree, Pirate, Sleepy  
Sky: Kind, Sword, Zelda  
Warrior: Proud, Skilled, Soldier  
Four: Small, Brave, Blacksmith  
Hyrule: Traveler, Magic, Survivor

Below that, he began to write out everything he could remember; in disjointed chronology. Every adventure they had gone on, everything they had seen and done. Every meal he had cooked. He wrote until he realized that the light of the slate seemed brighter all of a sudden. Looking up, he realized the sun had set and darkness had descended overhead. He should sleep. He didn’t want to sleep, just in case that was how he forgot. So he kept writing. He kept writing until his eyelids felt like iron chains and his body was all but slumped over. He wrote, until he fell deep into a slumber, within the tall grass under the twilight of the moon. 

In the morning, he awoke with his cheek pressed against the cool glass of the Sheikah slate, bones aching from his sleeping position and head pounding. His eyes flicked down to the ever-trustworthy slate as he sat up, rubbing his cheek. The log was still open; in fact it was full. He stared down at it, numbly. Then reached down and flicked it back up to the first entry of familiar names. 

Familiar names… He begun to tremble, a flood of tears overtaking his vision as he pressed the Sheikah slate to his chest and sobbed hoarsely into the breeze. Some strange relief having washed over him in the light of the morning sun’s rise. 

Wild. He was still Wild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated


	3. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wild learns a few things and gets an idea

He was still wary. Had the Goddess blessed him or was it just an oversight? When would she realize and steal it all away from him? Yet, the days passed by and still he remembered. Everyday, he woke up and before he even thought to pick out the weed and flowers in his hair, he’d check his slate and each day he still recognized the words there. What they meant to him. 

It wasn’t until he visited Zora’s domain; wanting supplies, a bed and comforts from it’s prince that he realized something was amiss. 

Sidon had wanted to hear all about his latest adventure, but the man’s usual inquiry about his 8 companions were missing. The Zora was a prince, it was only polite to ask and Sidon always asked. In fact, no one asked why he had gone from a party of 9 to 1. 

“I apologize my dearest friend, I do not know of anyone called Time or Twilight. Have you adopted new pets?” The prince tilted his head, tail swishing back behind him as they both relaxed in the heated pool of the domain. A private sanctuary reserved for royalty away from the communal sleeping pools. A god send for sore muscles, but it did nothing for the ache in Wild’s chest. 

Throat raw from the silence; and who knew his throat could be sore from ‘not talking’? The hylian just shook his head, brow furrowing as he turned away. Sidon seemed to sense something was wrong, leaning in closer, 

“Dearest Li-I mean, Wild.” He corrected himself when the hylian’s ears twitched, “Are they companions you lost?” 

Wild didn’t know how to answer, just sank deeper into the warm water. Bubbles rising up to the surface as he mouthed something incoherent under the water. Sidon thought he was counting, catching the quiet rasp of a ‘four’, but decided not to press the issue any further. Wild was grateful, closing his eyes as he remembered. 

Maybe it was a curse. For him to remember, because it seemed that no one else did. From Zora Domain to Rito village to Goron City. No one remembered them. Even though he had brought them there before. Even though, Wind had reveled in the majesty of the domain, calling it a beauty of the water to the utter delight of Sidon. Even though Time had spent about 10 minutes comparing a red tunic with the goron city shopkeeper’s armor suit. Even though Sky had practically been adopted by Teba as a second kid at some point in their visit. All of them looked at him as if he were losing his mind when he brought up their names. 

He felt as if he were going mad. At times, he wondered if he was, but no. He remembered them, clearly. Oh so clearly. All their adventures, their stories, themselves. He remembered them! Even if nobody else did. Even though, that was unfair. And it was, completely unfair! 

Gazing into the clear lake surrounding the empty mokoblin camp, he glared at the reflection of the stars above. Imagining that he was glaring at Hylia up above. How could she do this? How could she… rip away every mark of them from this world? His world? Their future, where they were already nothing more than whispers. So stained by the age of history that no one even knew what they had really done! What they had sacrificed to save all of Hyrule over and over again in this thankless cycle! 

His hands curled around a fistful of grass, yanking the blades out by their roots. He tossed them straight into the lake. They landed without any sound, floating idly on the surface of the lake. The lackluster outcome halting his anger as he just stared at the grass blades. It felt almost like she was mocking him from up there, saying that it hadn’t been an accident. He was just doomed to remember them. 

Running a hand through his hair, Wild looked down at his reflection in the lake. To an extent, they had all bore some similarities amongst them. Hylian; all some form of blond and blue eyed. The green motif hadn’t stuck; something Warrior had casually remarked one night. Aside from that, they had looked different from one another. Different features; different voices.. different scars. 

He reached up, tracing the scar across the side of his face with cold fingers. Staring into his reflection, he hooked a finger against his mouth, pulling it down. While sucking his cheeks in an attempt to mimick Time’s grumpy face when he was barking out orders to the group, then tried for Warrior’s narcissistic admiration whenever he looked at himself in a mirror. The grimace that he came up with in the water just made him chortle. Dropping his hands as he rubbed the scar brandishing up his cheek again. 

This was the culmination of all their years huh? He pulled at the scar tissue, barely feeling the pressure. This was all that was left of their memory. This was their legacy…  
…  
..  
.  
He shot up, nearly falling forward into the water. Yes! That was it! He stared at himself in the water. Yes! Off course this was their legacy! He was their legacy! 

And he knew exactly what he had to do.


	4. Time's March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wild ensures Time's legacy is never forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this one. I thought about putting Time last, but I think, he deserved to be the start of the legacies.

_He hadn’t meant to wake up so early, in fact, he wished he could go back to sleep on the soft mattress just beneath him. Wild kept odd hours, however, and if his body decided it wanted to be up early to make crepes for everybody, then well.. who was he to deny it? Stealthy as a leaf on the breeze, he crept through the sleeping bodies of his peers. Intent on making his way to the kitchen when he very-not-so-stealthily collided with against a broad chest._

_“Easy there cub. Easy.” Time’s voice steadied him as a hand on his shoulder kept him from falling over. He thought he was the only one awake; the look must’ve transferred because Time chuckled._

_“Well, you don’t exactly sleep in on a ranch unless its your birthday.” He smiled, somehow looking even taller without his armor. Peering over Wild’s shoulder to the doorway, he shook his head, “Well, I was coming to ask what you wanted for breakfast, but if you’re up, then we’ll let the others sleep in a bit more. It’s been a while since they’ve had a bed. Come, I’ll show you were the milk is.”_

_“Malon?” Wild asked following Time to the kitchen. It had been so long since he cooked in an actual kitchen, more used to an unsteady pot over a fire, but it wasn’t… bad. To be in a kitchen. One where the spice rack was already filled with all the spices he could ever want. One where he could trace the stray stains of flour from yesterday’s meal. Their make do chairs and stools still strewn around the tiny table. Evidence of their being. Signs of a home. He shook himself out of his thoughts as Time spoke._

_“Out tending the horses and refilling the fairy bowls. We try to take turns around here. At least, she tells me if I’m cooking, she’s going to want to work herself ragged in order to be hungry enough to eat my meals.” He chuckled and Wild couldn’t help but chuckle also. Looking over at Time, he couldn’t think that the man looked more relaxed than ever as he took out several baking ingredients from a shelf above. His shoulders dropped back, his eye bright and sparkling, his smile.. so far from the hero’s weary enthusiasm in battle._

_“Twil was happy last night.” Wild blurted out without meaning to. Ears reddening as he felt Time turn to him. No going back now, “Whatever you said to him last night, it made him really happy.”_

_There was a beat of silence. Then a quiet chuckle._

_“You know.” Time started, handing the ingredients off to Wild, “For the longest time, I was worried about what kind of mark I’d leave on this world. If I had a chance to do it all over again, I would, because someone has to, but up till now. I was wondering whether or not I’d be remembered after all this. If I’d have any kind of legacy I could be proud of. But, after seeing all of you; seeing what comes after me.”_

_He sighed, closing his eyes as he tilted his head to the sound of the songbirds, “I’m proud. Of all of you. It’s clear, I at least did something in my life right.”_

_Wild was stunned. It was extremely rare that Time would open up about his own adventures. He wasn’t quite sure what to say in response to that. Didn’t want to break the moment and have the man retreat, but as he looked up at Time; so set in his element here. He had the feeling that this feeling couldn’t break. So, he just breathed as he fiddled with the flour package, voice soft, “All of you did something right.”_

_He felt a hand clap down on his shoulder. Looking up into Time’s easy smile and steady eyes, he thought maybe someone else had looked down at him like that before as Time nodded, “If it leads towards you, then I’ll believe it.” _  
.  
.  
.  
It had to start with Time. He didn’t know how it would start, but he knew where it would start. __

__Twilight had confided in him once, that he knew were Time was buried. Somewhere near the castle grounds, near a sacred tree or the like. He may have saw that as a fitting burial place, but Wild disagreed. Time was so much more than just his duty to the crown, so much more than just a hero that saved all of Hyrule! Time.. Time was here._ _

__He stood in the barren remains of the ranch, gently stroking the muzzle of his horse as he waited for Zelda to arrive. It had been a while since he had seen her. After getting back, he had sent a letter to assure her he was fine, but he had been afraid to speak to her. She was after all, the goddess incarnate. In the day when he was afraid that his memories were just a second’s away from disappearing. He was afraid Hylia would see through her and rectify that mistake._ _

__He couldn’t do this without her help though. At least, without her endorsement._ _

__“Link!” He flinched at the call of his-that name. Looking up, he saw her disembarking from her white stallion, a few soldiers trailing after her; farmers turned knights. She looked relieved to see him, but Wild wondered if she secretly hoped that one day it’d be her ‘Link’ that came back. Biting back his hesitation, he hugged her as she came to him. He couldn’t deny he still cared for her, couldn’t deny that he recognized her struggle, but-_ _

__“Call me Wild.” He croaked as he pulled away, then tugged down at his hood hurriedly as he turned to face the desolate ruins of the ranch. ‘Lon Lon Ranch’ his mind provided. He couldn’t be sure if it was really; even if it had been, the name itself could’ve been long lost to time. Yet, when he closed his eyes and imagined Time’s home and Malon leading the horses from the barn to the field, they matched the exact layout of the now decrepit ruins. He took a breath, “Did you get my letter?”_ _

__“Off course Li-Wild.” Zelda took a step closer to him, a warm smile on her face and he felt bad for feeling so distant to her, “To think, you would find documentations that a hero once lived here! A forgotten ember to time, and so detailed, we must memorialize this site immed-“_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Li-Wild?”_ _

__“No, that..” That’s not what he would’ve wanted. Not, not really. Time wasn’t to be memorialized, not in that way anyway. Wild took a breath, his throat tickled but he forced himself to speak, “I want to turn it into a ranch. Like it was before. Like it was when he-the hero was around. I think.. it’d be a good place to start the rebuilding. I’ve already sent a letter to some construction workers, they’re really good and I’ll help them build and I’ll take care of all the costs and I’ll-“_ _

__“Wild.” Zelda cut him off before he could continue. Her eyes stared down at him, a piercing blue. So bright, he swore it was the goddess that looked down at him. He swallowed, hands curling into a fist behind his back. It felt like forever until she turned back to the ruins, surveying them before nodding, “Yes. I think that will be a good idea. Rebuilding the ranch will be ‘our’ utmost priority, a fitting tribute to the hero here. What did you say his title was?”_ _

__He felt like a weight had come off his shoulder. Moving to stand by her, he looked out over the ruins and said quietly, “The hero of time.”  
.  
.  
.  
People were weary to return at first, but upon hearing that the ranch once belonged to the likes of a famous hero; farmers all but flocked to lay first claim. In the end, Zelda gifted it to a hylian family of four from Hateno village. _ _

__Wild walked alongside Nebb across the ranch._ _

__“Did the hero have a really amazing weapon?” He asked, jumping up and down as he held his hands out. Wild grinned, nodding as he held his hands out to emphasize._ _

__“Yes, he called it the Biggoron sword and it was unbreakable. He could swing it really well!” He signed to the child, watching his eyes light up. Taking up a tree branch, Nebb pretended to fight an invisible foe._ _

__“Not even grandpa ever said anything about that weapon! When I grow up! I want to have a sword just like that!” The child said determinedly. Link laughed, seeing the passion in his eyes. Bending down, he gently grasped his hand and adjust his foot stance. Somewhere in his mind, the whisper of a training session with Time ghosting to the front. Of Twilight wide eyed watching the man pass on his teachings._ _

__“Then, let me show you what the hero taught me.”  
.  
.  
.  
Lon Lon Ranch was quick to prosper. Perhaps not just from the story of the hero, but from the dedication of the generations it spawned there. It was more than just a ranch. People flocked there, not just for horses or to set up nearby farms, but young fit teens of all races came to learn their secrets._ _

__Mokoblins and bokoblins still roamed the land after all, it paid to be a ranch-hand who could wield a sword._ _

__And what better than to learn the techniques of the hero that once owned the land? The skill had become trademarked amongst ranchers, farmers and knights alike. The story of the hero who wielded them was chiseled into stone and set within the very heart of the ranch. In the middle of the wide field, they called Epona’s field._ _

__Next to that, Malon’s garden, the famed wife to the hero, who aided him in his quest. Where young couples flocked to leave out bowls of sugar water. In hopes that a fairy would drink from it and bless them with a love as strong as that of the hero and his wife. Perhaps from tourism or the fairy’s blessings, the ranch flourished in the fields. Bringing life back to the grounds of Hyrule and becoming a hallmark of it’s rebirth._ _

__And when a generation of folk began to sell milk from the ranch’s cows, under the tagline ‘The Hero of Time drank his milk, what about you?’ Well, Wild could only laugh and laugh until tears ran down his face. And somewhere, in a world of swirling mist and fairies of blue, a shade took the hand of an equestrian goddess and laughed along with him._ _


	5. Moving Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wild wonders how to keep the memory of the first alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was actually trickier to write for Sky even though he had less games than Time. There was less material for him. This chapter is actually longer because there was more than had to be established. His character was a bit trickier to nail down and I'm glad I had the comics from JoJo to figure out his personality and features more. 
> 
> I thought initially, about making Sky's wood carving skills the center focus, but, it was such a small mention in the game, that it could easily be overlooked. So I went with something else instead. I hope you enjoy it.

_Wild closed his eyes, feeling the icicles crackling on his lashes. He shivered, the cold seeping deep down into his bone as he cursed through his chattering teeth. Hugging himself in a futile attempt to keep warmth as he listened to the howling winds of the raging snowstorm. A moment later, he felt a cloth draped around his form. Shielding him somewhat from the biting cold. Opening his eyes, he stared down at Sky’s sail cloth._

_Instinct making him dig his hands into the material before he forced himself to let it go and hand it back to Sky. The man sighing as he took the cloth and simply draped it around wild again, “Wild, I have five layers on me and I’m used to colder temperatures. You have two and the last time your tunic caught fire, you complained it was still too cold!”_

_Wild would’ve replied if his teeth weren’t chattering so badly. Curse Hylia. Curse her for dropping them in the middle of Hebra mountain during a snowstorm in scattered groupings. Curse her for doing it the moment Wild had relented to let Wind look over his slate so he couldn’t summon his snowquill clothing. And curse the snow itself for… for just existing!_

_At the very least Sky was with him and this cave existed. He was grateful for whoever made this cave in these icy wastelands!_

_In the midst of his thoughts, he felt a weight suddenly plop down next to him. An arm wrapping around his shoulders and drawing him close. He let out a breath at the shared body heat, though he didn’t think he was providing very much to Sky; the frozen block he was. He mustered enough energy to keep his eyes open, watching as Sky pulled out a wooden block from his deep pockets and a small piece of flint. The block was shaped elegantly, carved deeply in the beginnings of a wood carving that wouldn’t be finished now. Wild felt guilty, watching him set the half finished wooden idol down with the flint, before drawing the Master Sword._

_Teeth still chattering, Wild reached forward. Stiff fingers grabbing Sky’s arm just as he lifted the sword. Looking up at him, then quickly at the Master Sword as if to convey what he was trying to say. Sky seemed to get it, saying, “I’m sure Fi wouldn’t mind helping us keep warm,”_

_Still, Wild winced watching the blade come down on the flint, though he couldn’t help but scoot closer to the tiny fire that sprung up from the wood. His gaze still followed the Master Sword as Sky carefully sheathed it once more. His cold muddled brain seemed to sense that he was capable enough of speech to blurt, “Do you hear her?”_

_“I do.” Sky, to his credit, answered smoothly, “But, sometimes, I find it hard to hear what she’s saying. I think it’s to do with where we are, and the power she has tied to the era she’s in.”_

_“Is it hard to hear her now?”_

_“A bit, it feels like she’s underwater or maybe I am. I can’t quite make out what she’s saying, but I can feel it when she’s annoyed.” He chuckled._

_Wild nodded. Hugging his knees to his chest as he leaned against Sky, eyes on the fire now. There was a bleat of silence before his stupid brain prompted him to blurt again, “I’m sorry.”_

_“Wild?”_

_“I’m sorry, she’s so.. weak here. I’m sorry I let her sleep for so long. I’m sorry I can’t hear her, I-“ He cut himself off to take a breath, the altitude made it harder to keep up his rant. He sucked in the cold air, have tempted to set his clothes on fire to burn off more of the chill. His entire left side ached; numb, scarred and cold. And he guilty and lost in the freeze before he felt something metallic slow slid into his hand. Blinking, he looked down and found the hilt of the Master Sword gripped in his frozen fingers._

_Sky’s pressed his other hand against the blade. The metal felt warm._

_Wild looked up and met Sky’s eyes; the blue in them made his name fitting, “Do you remember when we first met?”_

_“Course, you thought I was a bokoblin in the dark and tried to take of my head.” He turned away, murmuring, “it’s not my fault I fell into a mud pit before I got teleported.”_

_“A mud pit and somehow several bushes.” Sky retorted, but smiled fondly down at the blade, “She burned my hands when I raised to strike you. She was protecting one of her Masters.”_

_“She’s burned me before for just touching her.” He said quietly, pulling his hand away from the metal, away from the fire. He rubbed his palm through his glove, recalling the misty trees of the Korkok forest and the sword that mocked him from the stone pedestal._

_“She was protecting you then too.” Sky’s voice brought him back, “You weren’t ready then Wild. She knew that and she was protecting you. She’s always been, protecting us. From darkness, from Ganon, from… the mistake I’ve made. She’s spent her entire life protecting all of you, using up her energy all because of a dumb curse uttered centuries ago. It’s not your fault she was so weak by the time she got to you Wild. It’s mine.”_

_“Sky, you couldn’t have known-“_

_“No, but now I do.” He paused, “Now I’ve met all of you. I know exactly what Demise’s curse meant and I.. I’m sorry for it. I thought, it’d be fine. Carrying the spirit of the Hero, getting to be with Zelda every incarnation, but, it’s not, what I expected. All of you, with your own lives and.. loves. Shouldn’t have to be condemned, because of me. Because-”_

_“Sky.” Wild interrupted him urgently, a growl to his voice. The warmth in his hands was overflowing, the Master Sword was glowing urgently between them and Wild.. Wild wanted to laugh, because the first time he’d ever hear her was for this moment, this- “She’s annoyed at you.”_

_At that, Sky’s eyes crinkled in a smile, “Always could tell when she was. Can you still hear her?”_

_“A bit, but it’s like she’s underwater.”_

_The other laughed at his words, pressing Wild’s hand against the hilt of the blade. The chill in his bones was suddenly gone, replaced with a warmth that the small fire couldn’t have produced. As Sky said quietly, “She said, she’s proud of you.” _  
.__

__._ _

__.  
__ Sky was tricky. He didn’t think he’d run into a roadblock so soon. Unlike Time, Sky didn’t really have a set home. The man had literally founded all of Hyrule after all and Skyloft, as high as Wild could climb, didn’t seem to exist anymore. And the closest thing to Loftwings were Cuccos or the Rito. He didn’t think either would appreciate the comparison.

Sky had been the first of them. Almost everything he had made was eroded by time. Well, all but one thing.  
.  
Wild knelt down on the stone, hesitating, before he reached out and brushed the cool metal of the silver blade. The watchful eyes of the deku tree above him as he whispered, “Can you hear me?”

It had been so long since he had come back here. Not since he had sheathed the sword away after the end of the Calamity. He wondered if she hated him for putting her to sleep straight away. He wondered if she remembered him, if she remembered Sky, their entire journey. Or, had the Goddess whisked those thought away as well?

Yet, as his fingers grazed across her hilt, he felt it. The quiet buzz of warmth against his fingertips as the sword glowed weakly. He laughed, feeling her annoyance _ _.  
__

__._ _

__._ _

__.  
“__The sword that has reunited with it’s Master.. has grown weak over the years, it does not recognize it’s true splendor. To restore her power, you must face arduous trials, stripped without weapon nor armor, to test your courage.” The voice of the great Deku Tree rang out around the forest, koroks dancing around it’s roots. Wild looked up at its gigantic body, his fingers resting gingerly atop the blade. He didn’t hesitate to say.

“I’ll do it.”  
.

.

.

She was singing by his side. Resplendent, glowing, warm. He found himself reaching for her every so often, just to brush his fingers across the hilt and feel the heat travel up his hand. Even while he spoke idly to Cado, he found himself doing so as he leaned against the Cucco pen. Listening to the man chatter on excitedly about the birds, it almost felt like listening to Sky again. Almost. He still wasn’t quite sure how to do more for him.

“They’re quite amazing creatures! You know I first realized how remarkable they are when I was trying to use them for archery!” Cado chuckled, tugging his beard as Wild looked at him shocked. He knew the man had been a brilliant archer, but using the very birds he loved as targets?

The man caught his gaze, hurriedly waving his hand. “Oh no no, never that! Wipe away the thought. I was trying to use Cuccos to slow my fall in the air, so I could shoot an arrow midflight! Did you know? You can pick one up and fall with them and the magnificent creature will slow you down in the air! The problem was, the moment you let go to even fire an arrow, they’d fly away! Beautiful creatures, but then you’re falling so far away from them!’

Wild stared at him a moment, before pulling out his paraglider, to which Cado scoffed.

“Bah! Things like those were reserved for the knights and royalty! The wood used for that sort of thing alone could buy a year’s worth of cucco feed! Common folk like us could never afford it, if only there were something easier we could use” The man shook his head, just as Wild’s snapped up. Staring at Cado as if he had just recited the scripture of the Seven Sages! Without a word, he hugged the man before turning and running off. Leaving him quite stunned as he watched him go. Cado swore the blade at Link’s side was glowing.  
.

.

.  
It took him several tries and many broken bones before he perfected it. While it had always looked like such an unassuming cloth, Sky had assured him once that it had been tailored and weighted just right to ensure that it could catch the weight of almost anyone. While his own had been a special gift from his Zelda, the use of sailcloths wasn’t uncommon in Skyloft. And in a Hyrule filled with hills, mountains and towering structures, it only seemed right that it shouldn’t be uncommon once more.

And with it, the story of the hero of the sky.

He told it to ever traveler he met on the road, to every person he handed a cloth to. Even scribbled it down into the rumor mill journals in every stable (though Traysi wasn’t too happy at the added footnote). Some believed him without a second thought, others regarded him skeptically until he demonstrated the convenient use of the sailcloth by parachuting off some nearby mountain. And others, well, the glowering light of the Master Sword seemed to quell their doubts.

The sailcloths made travel across long distances and rocky horse hostile terrains much easier. So easy that it was almost mandatory every postman learn how to use one to deliver letters. Many a traveler and lone wanderer were proud as well, to drag out their sailcloths and show them off to others. Recounting with pride, the tale of the hero that once lived high in the sky that they now emanated. Their enthusiasm for temporary flight even endured them to the likes of the Rito. Wild was proud, but even then, he couldn’t have expected just how much the simple sailcloth would impact Hyrule.

The Hylians were a scattered race. Tossed to every corner of the earth by the Calamity. When Hyrule was rebuilt, they came back together. An equally scattered culture, with no unifying identity, no tradition, no sport. Yet, as with the Gerudo’s sand seal racing and the Goron’s gut check mountain climb, Hylians adopted ‘The Trials of the Chosen Hero’.

Hylians would spend months practicing for the annual trial, held just at the outskirts of the kingdom. When it came, they’d all gather at the top of the highest tower built there and use their sail cloth to race across a myriad of obstacle courses. The winner was crowned the ‘hero of the skies’ for that entire year, and was gifted a special sailcloth with the castle symbol by queen Zelda herself; in remembrance of a time from so long ago.

It became a tradition. And competitive folk of all other races came to try their hand at the trials. Even the Ritos agreed to keep their wings in in order to try and master the skill of the sailcloth, all in hopes to bring home the title of the hero back to their own lands.

Wild never took part in the official trial, but he often found himself racing the obstacle course in his free time. Every time he soared through the air there, he could hear Fi singing from the blade. And sometimes, he swore he heard someone else’s laughter next to hers racing through the wind.


	6. Four Certain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wild finds that sometimes history can be rewritten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in researching the timeline more. The Fourswords trilogy apparently happen to all different Links, but in Linked Universe, I think their stories are combined. Anyway, the design of Four is based off of the Hero of Men from the Minish cap, so I relied most heavily on that story to write this one.
> 
> Thank you fall all your kind comments! I really like reading them! Thank you for helping spread word of this fic!

_“Oh for Hylia’s sake! Come here!” They had been travelling together for about a week since meeting. Wild was on his 30th broken weapon by the time Four had dragged him aside from the group one day._

_Now Wild was sat upon a log, wringing his hands and turning his legs in like a scolded child as he watched Four inspect the broken shattered remains of the Eightfold Blade. If the normally calm Four didn’t look like he was about to burst a blood vessel, then Wild might’ve joked ‘guess Four still beats Eight, right?’_

_He held back a chuckle at his own joke as Four approached him and pointed a finger accusingly at him. With him sitting down, Four was nearly the same height as him where he stood, but Wild felt much much smaller under the man’s glare as he stated, “I don’t understand how you manage to break every weapon you come across! It’s like you’re cursed!”_

_Wild couldn’t help but flinch at that, glad that his hood was pulled down over his face. He had been called many things before, by disgruntled Zora elders, cursing Yiga and sometimes just by very unfriendly people, but ‘cursed’? That one was new. That one stung for reasons he couldn’t fully place. Maybe it was because Four looked so much like a child that Wild felt ashamed, or maybe it was because Four was right. He ad failed so much, maybe he was cursed._

_Four took a step back, taking a deep breath to recenter himself. Exhaling, he seemed to come back to his usual self as he set the broken blade parts down and put his hands on his hips. Turning to Wild, “Okay. Tell me how do you usually do your weapon maintenance.”_

_Wild remained silent, looking away sheepishly._

_“You don’t do weapon maintenance!?” It was a shout that could’ve roused the attention of 5 Hinoxes._

_“I usually just… picked up weapons from the monsters along the way.” Wild shrugged, unconsciously signing as he spoke, “There was always a monster around to take from. It seemed faster than anything else.”_

_The moment it was spoken, he wished he could take the words back, because Four was looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read. It wasn’t angry, it was something closer to exasperated, but mixed with something else entirely. He felt his ears burn from the look all the same as he looked down, feeling ashamed. He was sure, that once long ago, he knew how to maintain a weapon. Probably knew how to maintain it for years and years, or well, the other Link would’ve known._

_“I’m sorry I keep breaking my weapons.” His brain didn’t seem to think that was enough, prompting him to continue to blurt, “I’m sorry I slow us down because I need to loot enemy weapons. I-I’m sorry that I forgot how to take care of my swords and I couldn’t protect my Hyrule and I let Zelda down and I keep making...” He trailed off, struggling for the word;_

_“Mistakes.” He finished, his hands dropping down to his lap, where he stared at them. His breathing came a little hard after the rant, realizing he had just spilled more than he had intended to. He heard a quiet click of boots as Four came to stand in front of him. The glistening blade of the Four Sword held out in front of him. Looking up, he saw Four staring down at the blade, another unreadable expression on his face._

_“You know, when I first saw this sword, it was shattered right before my very eyes? By an evil sorcerer. He petrified my Zelda, broke the blade and ran away. All in front of me.” He smiled, “And you know the worst of it all? We practically delivered the blade back to him, just because he won a sword tournament. It was the biggest mistake of Hyrule kingdom and the biggest mistake of my life not to have stopped him back then.”_

_Wild remained silent. Listening. None of them had really opened up about their own adventures yet. Watching as Four took the Foursword by it’s hilt and held it up to the light. It glinted and Wild swore he saw the jewel adorning it flash several colors. Four gazed at it with reverence, speaking quietly,_

_“Everyone makes mistakes. Be it as big as breaking or sword or small as denting it, but what matters is that you try to fix those mistakes and after that, you learn from them and you keep them from happening again.” He held the sword plainly, “I reforged this blade and now I always make sure to maintain it’s strength.”_

_Bending down, he picked up the pieces of the broken blade. Gesturing to Wild, “Here, keep this in case we ever come across a forge. Right now, I’ll show you how to properly take care of a blade out here.”_

_Standing up, Wild hesitated as he took the shattered pieces of the Eightfold in his hands. Looking down at them thoughtfully before he found his voice again and croaked out, “Shouldn’t, I learn from my mistakes by myself?”_

_Four paused, still holding his sword, he looked back at Wild and smiled kindly, “Another thing about mistakes, there’s always someone out there willing to help you learn from them.” _ _ _  
.  
.  
.  
“____Zelda, I can’t do this without your help.”

“I’m not saying no Wild. I’m just processing what it is you’re asking me to do.” Zelda sat at her desk, rubbing her temples. Wild glanced at the potted bouquet of silent princesses that he had brought as a gift and possible buttering tool. So far, she hadn’t outright rejected his idea, though she looked increasingly stressed as she leaned over the desk. They sat in the newly rebuilt ‘study room’ of Hyrule castle. Wild didn’t know if it had existed before the Calamity or if it had been Zelda’s, but the room was practically dripping in her personality now.

She had really made it her own; filling the shelves with books and journals. Installing a blackboard that spanned the near entire circumference of the room and was already 3 quarters of the way filled with notes and numbers; none of which Wild understood. It seemed Zelda had dived straight back into scholarly study alongside rebuilding Hyrule. Wild couldn’t help but feel proud.

“Wild,” Her voice drew his gaze back to her. Gleaming sapphire eyes bore into him, “What you’re asking me to do is rewrite Hyrulean history.”

“It’s not really rewriting if it’s true.” He protested, sitting up and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Do you have proof?”

“I didn’t need proof when you believed me about the Hero of Time.”

“You had his skills, and I believed you Wild, because it was believable to an extent. I believed even that the tales of time travelling could be exaggerated, but Wild.” She stopped, fixing him with her gaze, “You’re asking me to believe that at some point in history, Hyrule was saved thanks to the aid of a hero and… tiny forest people-“

“The Picori.” Wild nodded.

“Yes, the Picori which can only be seen by well behaved children and who only come to our realm every 100 years through a magical doorway helped this hero who was also a child at the time, to save Hyrule from an evil sorcerer wind mage..” She finished and Wild smiled, nodding enthusiastically. Zelda let out a groan, resting her head on her hands. Fingers back to rubbing her temples, “And you are certain this happened?”

Wild nodded again. Straightening in his chair, he leaned towards her. Resting his hand on the desk, “Zelda, do you remember when you heard the voice of the sword?”

Her gaze softened, eyes roving over the scars trailing up his face, “How could I forget?”

Her hand came to rest above his and he relaxed his shoulders, meeting her gaze, “I… heard the voice of the hero. And I know it happened. It’s a part of our history. Please.”

They stared at each other for what felt like minutes before Zelda pulled away. Sat up in her chair, took a breath and sighed with fondness, “Alright. What do you have in mind Wild?”  
.  
.  
.  
“It is with great pride and enthusiasm that I hearby announce the opening of Hyrule’s first forge!” Zelda raised the ceremonial dagger above her head, standing in front of the open-air blacksmith station. With a flourish, she brought it down and cut the ribbon strung loosely in front of it’s doors, “And with it! The reinstating of the Picori Festival; a tradition that once was celebrated throughout all of Hyrule a hundred years ago!”

The crowd cheered. Wild stood by Zelda’s side; dressed in royal knight’s armor, but still grinning beneath the weight of it. His eyes roved the crowd, the Hylians that were starting to return to the recovering kingdom. Having to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid from grinning any wider. He could feel Zelda’s eyes on him; a playful glare for making her go through with this.

Well, it wasn’t likely that anyone here was old enough to know that a hundred years ago, there was no such thing as the Picori festival. A little white lie couldn’t hurt. After all, they had celebrated it at one point even if it was more than a hundred years ago and every other detail about the festival was accurate to a fault; he had actually attended it once in Four’s Hyrule.

“And as is known, we celebrate this festival in name of the Hero of Men and wielder of the Foursword! And as is tradition! We will hold a tournament; an annual sword forgery contest! To whomever forges the most magnificent blade upon this day shall be honored with the symbolic Minish Cap and held as the king of the festivities!”

Okay, maybe he had tweaked some of the details of the festival itself, but he was learning from past mistakes! True, they didn’t have the Picori blade to accidentally hand over to an evil wind mage cheating in a sword tournament, but well, one could never be too careful. Biting back his smile, he took a breath, puffing his chest out proudly to the cheering crowd.  
.  
.  
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Wild hadn’t known it and to all her credit, neither had Zelda, but the festival came at the right time. It gave people something to celebrate, a reason to cheer the day, a reason to go all out and enjoy themselves. For that day, they weren’t confused and worried Hylians, trying to come home to a land that was so foreign to them now. No, on that day; they were one people, celebrating a time when they were all united. Celebrating a triumph, celebrating a story that sounded absurd, but was so absurd that it was refreshing to believe it.

To laugh, drink and cheer to it. And to recover some of the identity they thought was all but long gone. It wasn’t just a tale of a hero, it was a tale of the people on that very day.

The festival only seemed to get bigger and bigger every year. As more people settled down and more came to settle down, it only became grander. Merchants coming from all around to set up shop for the festival; their presence attracting the attention of curious travelers. The people would put up decorations and children made paper masks of the hero and Vaati; acting out the story of his triumph. An actual full play of it was created; with a few lucky children being chosen to star as the helpful Picori. The fight for who got to sew up the legendary Minish Cap prize for the festival was nearly as heated as the tournament itself.

And speaking of the tournament...

Blacksmiths, from all walks of life, came to try their hand at the forgery contest. It had started as a means of pride, before accidentally turning into a strengthening of diplomatic ties.

Dento had to admit that Rohan’s way of forging Goron hammers was more durable than that of the Zora, while the Goron had conceded that the Zora’s work with silver was some of the most precise balancing of a weapon he had ever seen. How they came to realize this was through witnessing their weapons being tested by none other than the Champion himself. Both wincing as they watched him shatter their hours of hard work in less than a few minutes.

Their shared pain bringing the two species all the closer.  
.  
.  
.  
The forge itself was used more than just for the day of the festival as well. Anyone with enough skill and know how would come to teach and be taught. Zelda had decided to leave an open journal within the forge, for all to leave their notes. Unceremoniously, that very journal would go onto become the go-to tome for any blacksmith; filled with forge secrets from the Zora, to the Goron, to the Gerudo, to even the Rito for metal arrowheads. No one disagreed to it being reprinted and sold throughout the land, and certainly no one was displeased by the creation of stronger, more durable farming and hunting equipment.

The original journal remained in the forge; preserved in glass. The names of all it's authors carved in stone and set above the furnace for all to see; though many often wondered who would name their child 'Four'.  
.  
.  
.  
The story of the hero transcended that of the festival as well; with parents warning their children to behave, lest they be taken away by the raging wind of the evil mage. If they were truly good, perhaps the Picori would reward them someday. The playful fable did seem to improve the attitudes of many a mischievous child.

And even all the more, the day a group of children had come back, giggling from the tall grassy fields. Clothes stained with grass and faces flushed from laughing to one another. All of them nearly bombarding Wild when they saw him. Urging him to hold his hands out as they dropped tiny multicolored stone pieces into his palm.

A tiny girl came to the front of the gaggle, smiling sweetly up at him as she raised a finger to her lips, eyes shining, “They said to say thank you, to you Mr Wild! And that ‘he’ says thank you too! And stop banging your sword on rocks!”

With that they ran away together, all laughing to one another, leaving a stunned looking Wild, still holding onto the tiny stones.

His free hand flew over to his sword as he eyed the grassy hill they had all come from. Promising under his breath that he’d be more careful. To his surprise, he thought he heard a soft disgruntled murmur answer before he turned to leave.


	7. Seeking Winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wild takes a walk along the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Wind, I actually had a lot more I wanted to write out, but then I felt it would've made the story too draggy, so I cut it down a bit. Also a theme of this chapter seems to be people getting interrupted a lot while talking. Sorry this took a while I've been busy with finishing up my third semester of school. Again, thanks for all the comments. They really motivate me to keep up with this story. I hope you enjoy this one!

_It normally didn’t bother Wild. In fact, most of the time he’d laugh it off without any further thought. Today though, he just felt more numb, and tired, somehow, all at once. Last night’s rest hadn’t been good, though he couldn’t grasp more than faint futile fragments of dreams and nightmares. Faces he couldn’t remember, people he couldn’t name, thoughts he shook off to focus._

_He had to wake up early to make breakfast for everyone, adding to his restlessness, though he’d be damned if he let any of them starve. To his dismay, their supplies were rapidly running low. Luckily, they were not to far off from a town in Four’s Hyrule._

_Wild had to stay back to cook and Wind opted to keep him company while the others went to resupply. So it came to be, Wild sat stirring the bubbling pot, while Wind sat beside him; eagerly eyeing the diced turnips and creamy milk that were contributed to its contents. Hearing the young boy’s grumbling stomach made Wild smile a little as he spooned out a bowlful for Wind to taste._

_He hadn’t known how good it was to cook for others, until he actually did. Sure, he could appreciate a good meal for himself, but there was something different about feeding someone else. Watching their eyes light up at the first bite, the first look of pleasant surprise melting away into grateful relish. Seeing them happy, sated and relaxed after a good meal. Sometimes, the others would praise him for his culinary skills and he’d feel a warmth spring inside him. A feeling similar to yet so far different from when villagers praised him for killing monsters. A happiness he thought he had felt a long time ago._

_So, it was with thinly veiled eagerness that he watched Wind take the first sip of the creamy stew._

_Wild knew Wind had been teasing. Joking even. He hadn’t really meant it, but the champion couldn’t help but flinch when the boy set down his bowl and said, “Well, it’s still not as good as my grandma’s soup.”_

_Something in Wild seemed to shut down as he hung his head. Staring despondently at the dirt beneath his feet, feeling like he had failed in some regard. Over soup. The irrationality of it all only frustrating him more, as did the feeling of Wind’s concerned stare at his sudden silence. Oh now he gone and made Wind needlessly worried about him! C’mon Wild, couldn’t you do anything right?_

_“I’m.. sorry.” He managed to get out, avoiding Wind’s eyes as he forced himself to hover back over the soup, still mumbling, “That it’s not as good as your grandma’s..”_

_There was an awkward silence, that Wild hope would at least last till the others got back. He concentrated on mindlessly stirring the pot again before-_

_“It’s still really good.” Wind murmured, sitting closer to him, “Especially with the few ingredients we have. And being cooked out here in a camp! You should give me the recipe. I’ll write it down for my grandma; she loves learning new kinds of recipes and Aryll likes hearing all about us in my letters. I’m sure the Postman will come around soon, I’ll just tell him to deliver it to them. They’re going to love your soup Wild!”_

_The boy gestured wide, his enthusiastic attempts to cheer him up just made Wild feel even more guilty. He hurried to muster a smile for him, shaking his head gently, “It’s okay. We don’t have much paper left, you should write about other things. They’re probably tired hearing about us by now.”_

_He waved it off, trying to joke even as he felt his heart sinking further. He hated how ‘envious’ he felt listening to Wind talk about his family. It wasn’t that he hated to hear about them, but he just hated how he felt hearing about them. The green-eyed beast in his chest, whenever he did, was an ugly horrible monstrous creature conjoined to a wicked voice in his head. It whispered vile thoughts to him, vile thoughts about Wind._

_Wind, who had been the same age as him when he pulled the master sword, who had succeeded in his journey unlike Wild, who had a loving family unlike Wild to return to, who-Stop._

_Gritting his teeth, he shoved down those terrible thoughts. Glancing over to Wind, he startled. Seeing the boy’s arms crossed over his chest and his lip protruding in a rather childish pout as he stared unblinkingly at Wild. For a moment, the champion felt his heart skip a beat and he wondered if Wind had heard his thoughts. Had sensed his envy and-and knew just how terrible he wa-_

_“Why wouldn’t they want to hear about my family?” Wind prodded and Wild’s spoon fell into the broth._

_“What?”_

_“I mean, Aryll’s always said she wanted more brothers and my grandma would love to hear all about you guys! She always likes hearing about my adventures whenever I visit so-“_

_“No,’ Wild spluttered, cutting Wind off, “The part about family. What do you mean?“_

_The boy looked up at Wild confused, raising a brow as if Wild were the one not making sense, “Well, we’re all like family aren’t we? We’ve been travelling together and we take care of each other, and we all have the Hero’s Spirit, it’s like we’re brothers! Well, I guess Time’s more like a grumpy dad and sometimes Twi acts like a mothe-“_

_“What about Aryll and your grandmother?” Wild interrupted again, prompting Wind to shoot a lighthearted glare at him as if irritated. The boy huffed, waiting to see if he’d be interrupted again before continuing,_

_“They’re still my little sister and grandmother. Just because I have a new family here, doesn’t mean they stop being my family there! It just means I have a bigger family! It’s just like with Tetra!” Wild stared at him, eyes wide and wonderous as if Wind had just introduced a whole new concept to him. The boy shifted uncomfortably under his gaze before tilting his head, “Anyway, I’m going to write down your recipe to her. And maybe if we get to Outset island the next time we change Hyrules, maybe she can show you how to make her soup! Then you can finally make some really really good soup!”_

_Wind nodded to himself, not wasting any time as he began to rummage in his back for a spare piece of paper and a quill. Leaving Wild staring at him in much the same state as before. When the boy finally turned to him, paper and quill in hand, presumably to start writing down his recipe, Wild spluttered and choked out,_

_“Can I-“ He trailed off, not sure what he was asking. His mind grasped for something, anything, but he only found a desire that he couldn’t really put into words, “Can you, tell me if this needs more salt?”_

_He gestured to the soup again, pushing down that nervous jittery want. He couldn’t ask that much. Didn’t want to overstep his boundaries. Wind looked at the soup thoughtfully, then at Wild, “Hmm, I think it’s enough. Hey Wild, I have an extra piece of paper, why don’t you write something down too? You can say hi to everyone back at Outset before you meet them!”_

_His heart skipped a beat, “What, what would I write?”_

_“Well, tell them I’m not getting into trouble! Grandma doesn’t believe it until they hear it from someone else! Oh maybe I should get Time to write something on that too, or Twi.. or maybe everyone! Hey Wild, remember to leave some space!”_

_This time, Wild couldn’t help but laugh quietly at Wind’s enthusiasm. He settled back down, trying to fish the ladle out of the soup with another ladle. His mind a little more settled, though, one question still nagged at him. Gaze sliding over to Wind, he murmured, “Hey Wind?”_

_“Yeah Wild?”_

_“What.. do you think your sister and grandmother would think of me?”_

_Wind looked up from where he was scribbling down his letter. He thought a moment, then smiled and said, “They’d think you’re family too.” _  
.  
.  
.  
Wild found himself running into the same problem with Wind as he had Sky. Outset island, which they had been able to visit thankfully a few times, was probably somewhere below the waves at this point. Wind like Sky, had founded a new Hyrule and honestly, Wild wasn’t sure if the land he stood on was that Hyrule! And even more so, he knew that Wind never really belonged to the land anyway. That boy was a pirate through and through, and his heart belonged to the waves. __

__Maybe that was how Wild found himself waking along the beaches of the Faron region. Threading the path between the soft warm sand the cooling shoreline of the waters. Listening idly to the gulls chirping above him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was of Outset, walking with Wind. Maybe towards his grandmother’s house; where his little sister would run out to greet them as if they were both familiar faces. His chest ached at the thought and he opened his eyes, finding the sky above him had turned dark and his journey had brought him to the edges of Lurelin village._ _

__“WILD!” Aryll’s voice cut through his reverie and his head snapped up, only to find that it wasn’t the little girl that had come to call him her ‘9th big brother’, but some children from the village. Yet the feeling was the same as he bent down, grinned and spread his arms open for them. Laughing as they nearly barreled him over into the sand, their mother coming up a moment to apologize._ _

__“Did you bring anything new Wild!?”_ _

__“Oh, tell us the story about the dragon on the mountain again!”_ _

__“Did you see Queen Zelda? Tell us more about her!”_ _

__The two children chattered on excitedly, badgering him with question after question before their mother; Kiana, came to tame them._ _

__“I’m sure the champion will tell you all in good time, but right now, you’re both meant to be helping me with dinner.” She said sternly. The children didn’t seem to mind, hopping from Wild’s arms to quickly go help their mother prepare. Their grumbling stomachs overcoming their curiosity. Kiana just smiled once they were gone, shaking her head as she looked to Wild, speaking with mirth “I swear they love a good meal as much as you do.”_ _

__To that Wild just grinned back, patting his stomach as if to agree. The woman let out a laugh, looking him over, “I don’t suppose you’d have any extra goat’s butter on you? Our pantries running low for taking in guests! I’d be willing to trade another silver Rupee for some, that and a meal for you as well, champion.”_ _

__Ah, regrettably, he did not have any butter on him. His mouth still watered at the thought of a meal though, and his mind was remarkably clever when it was tempted by the allure of food. His eyes sparkled as he remembered what he _did have _in his inventory. Holding his hands up, he signed, ‘Why don’t I cook dinner for all of you tonight? I have a recipe I’ve been meaning to try.”  
.  
.  
.  
“And the hero of the Winds really drank this?” Zuta, the little boy, asked shifting closer to Wild while his brother continued to gulp down large mouthfuls of soup beside him. Wild nodded, putting down his own plate to say, ___ _

____“Yes, he drank this while he sailed across the waves. He drank them out of bottles.”_ _ _ _

____“Bottles?!” The young child repeated, in disbelief, “Who puts soup in bottles!”_ _ _ _

____“Well, the Hero did! It was much easier to travel with it that way. Made it easier to carry his bottles and telescope-“_ _ _ _

____“Telescope? What’s that?” The boy interrupted, looking at Wild with wide eyes. His inquisitive stare bringing an idea to mind._ _ _ _

____“I’ll show you.”  
.  
.  
.  
“Linky!” Purah crossed his arms, standing on the chair and looking like a petulant child as she tilted her head. Poking her cheek, she stared up at him, “You want me to divert precious time and attention away from researching the ancient inner workings of the divine beasts and the guardians in order to make a smaller, more portable version of my great magnifying cylinder, that took years and years to make, up on my work house for some villagers living by the sea? Said inventing would probably take months to even get a functioning prototype?” _ _ _ _

____Wild smiled sheepishly. He didn’t mind when she called him Linky, it was almost like a nickname. She knew his real name was Wild anyhow. Still, childish nicknames aside, Purah was still a brilliant researcher. He would’ve gone to Robbie, but he it seemed like he’d have better luck here. Shaking his head, “It would help with the rebuilding. they would be really useful for travelars too and-“_ _ _ _

____“Linky! Linky! Linky! That’s highly irresponsible to ask me that, especially because I know you didn’t ask Zelda or she would be with you!” She wagged her finger in front of him, then grinned and hopped off her stool, “Which is why we’re going to do it! Can’t make groundbreaking breakthroughs if you only focus on the bigwigs research! It won’t be cheap though! I’ll need a lot of materials!”_ _ _ _

____She turned suddenly, looking him up and down, before pouting, “Well what are you waiting for! If we’re going to do this you need to get going! Snap! The list is in your slate! Go go go Linky!”_ _ _ _

____He let out a bark of laughter, scrambling to leave when Purah turned her attention to Symin. Hearing the poor man grown as she started ordering him about.  
.  
.  
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Zuta had been thrilled with his new toy. His little brother had been even more thrilled when their mother asked Wild for the recipe to the soup he had made them. Apparently, both boys had been completely enraptured by the tale of the Hero of the Wind. And even more so by the taste of very soup he supposedly drank eons and eons ago. Their excitement had bubbled over to the other children of the fishing village; who also wanted a taste of this fabled soup as well as more information from the Champion about the hero. _ _ _ _

_____Kiana just seemed happy that she had even more little hands to help her at every meal time._  
.  
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The secret recipe of the soup never really left Lurelin Village. Despite leading a simple life, the villagers were proud folk. Like many Hylians, they had been left without anything after the calamity, but had chosen a life so vastly different to what was known before. It only seemed fitting that the hearty elixir that had once empowered the hero on his own journey in the waters so far from everything he had known, be kept within their own walls and adopted by them as a symbol of their heritage. _ _

____That wasn’t to say that they didn’t share it. On the contrary, the savory tangy soup had become wildly popular not only in the village, but amongst tourists and weary travelers alike. It’s invigorating properties becoming the perfect way to end a tiring day of fishing or travelling. The villagers were proud to make it for anyone who set foot in their little village. Some even sending bottles of soup with those wanderers to share with those far from the shoreline. The children insisted that it had to be bottles that they took. Off course, the recipe remained a close guarded secret; known only by a few and passed onto their children._ _ _ _

____The same couldn’t be said about the telescope or rather, the ‘Hero’s vision’ as the children called it. Wild had introduced a few weary travelers to the handy device, but they had all had brushed him off. It wasn’t until he came to Lurelin once more did he find a group of them, all asking him where exactly he had gotten the device made. Suffice to say Purah spent more time away from her standard research and Symin had to forge her letters of progress to Zelda. (He was later promoted and given credit for the research so it wasn’t too much of a headache.)_ _ _ _

____The telescope was extremely helpful, for both sea and land farers alike. It’s portable magnifying powers made traveling along the roads much much safer. Traveling merchants often used it to ensure there were no monster camps ahead, travelers made sure they didn’t see any monsters planning an ambush and researchers lauded it’s ability to help them study wildlife from afar. It was hard to believe there was a time where they hadn’t even known what telescopes were or that it was exclusive only to mad scientists in gigantic house decorating form._ _ _ _

____Now, they were as precious as gliders had become! Just as Wind had once treasured it as a gift from his sister, the people of Hyrule now treasured it and the tale of the Hero that once used it to carve out his path on sea and found a new kingdom. Wild couldn’t even be blamed for rewriting that part of Hyrule’s history this time. The gossip of the villagers was enough to spread like wildfire. And travelers were proud to own and show off the reproductions of history long lost._ _ _ _

____Perhaps one day, Wild mused, he’d tell them more about the adventures he and Wind had gone on, omitting his own name from the detail. And all about Wind’s terrible pirate potty mouth if their parents didn’t mind their children learning a few creative lost curses. For now though, he relaxed, staring through his own personal telescope out at the ocean waves of Lurelin Village. His belly full of rich hearty soup from the bottle. Distantly, he heard the sound of children laughing, playing out their own version of the Hero’s journey over the sea. The breeze picked up around him as he looked out at the ocean blue._ _ _ _

____Sometimes, if the wind blew just right against the waves and the sky was clear, he thought he could make out the images of the water rising up to wave at him enthusiastically. As if greeting family._ _ _ _


	8. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wild visits the domain for some rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. So, to start, you can skip this chapter if you want to; it doesn't have an impact on future chapters. I wanted to break up the flow a bit and also explore some of Wild a little more. Sometimes you get so busy worrying about others, you forget to take care of yourself. Speaking of which, I'm busy with the last few weeks of school currently, so future updates won't be slow. 
> 
> Don't worry, I'll definitely come back. I can't bear to abandon a work (even though I have done so in the past when I was younger) ><. Well, Age of Calamity is coming out this month, so.. updates may be even slower because I may be caught up with that >>
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy the story! And to anyone wondering, I do ship Sidlink, but its unlikely to feature in this story, so feel free to imagine any pairing you want to; I won't judge. :)

_Tap Tap Tap _His pencil hit lightly against the edge of the notebook. Accidentally missing once and marking the page when the edges of his vision darkened. Wild cursed, seeing that the graphite had gone over the ingredients list for Wind’s soup. Hurrying to erase the offending mark, a sudden updraft of wind swept the erasing dust up towards him. Causing him to sneeze and nearly send his pencil flying over the edge of the Domain into the waterfall. Well, nearly meaning that it did and he only just managed to stop himself falling from the railing as he caught in part thanks to a pair of large hands catching him like a bungee cord.__

__Looking back he found Sidon staring at him; eyes tinged with a mixture of worry and amusement, “If you pardon my intrusion Wild, but any reason you were about to dive off the domain without any armor on whatsoever? You give me enough of a heart attack when you do so dressed in Zora wear.”_ _

__“Dusty.” Was all he murmured, grimacing inwardly at the rough and nasal sound of his voice._ _

__“If I may ask, my dear friend, why are you not in your usual Zora armor?” Sidon continued to press, leaning down to inquire. Wild was usually quite amused by how Sidon felt the need to lower himself to his level to talk, but today, he just waved him off and signed ‘hot’, as he tugged the collar of his worn shirt. He had no plans to go diving off the domain today anyway, he had come here just to ‘relax like a normal person who didn’t find fighting lynels relaxing’. Or rather, to get away from Zelda’s growing suspicions._ _

__When Sidon raised a brow at his answer though, he knew that he had just jumped from the cooking pot into the fire. Turning his head, he began to clear his throat to change the topic, but instead fell into a coughing fit. Doubling over by the force of it, he tried to cover his mouth as if to keep the rasping wheezes silent. No sooner had he succumb to it, did he feel Sidon hovering over him. A smooth scaled hand pressed against his forehead, causing him to involuntarily sigh at the cool touch._ _

__“You are burning up my friend, does Queen Zelda not know you are ill?” Sidon pulled back alarmed, setting his hands down on the other’s shoulders and leading him towards one of the healers. Wild complaint to the movement as his feet didn’t seem to want to listen to him anymore. He stumbled, guided on by Sidon in a daze after his fit before he regained his senses somewhere halfway through the domain._ _

__“No.” He rasped, halting and pushing the Zora’s hands away. Shaking his head, “No, no healers. No Zelda.”_ _

__For all the elixirs and healing magic in the world, one would think that someone would’ve figured out a quick fire cure to the common cold. As it was though, the only solution any healer would recommend was bedrest and plenty of sleep. It was what Zelda would’ve surely nagged him to do and surely what the Zora healers would as well!_ _

__“No, M’ fine.” He repeated, brushing off Sidon’s hand as it came to feel his forehead again, though he sorely missed the cooling feeling against his skin. Steeling himself against the prince’s worried gaze._ _

__“Wild. You need to rest, you are clearly ill my friend.” The Zora insisted, sighing as the man stubbornly shook his head. Looking closer now, he could see the darkening circles blooming under his eyes and hear the shallowness of his breath. Yet there was still a determination in his eyes; the same steely perseverance that Wild had had when he had seen him off to fight the Calamity. It was a curse now as Sidon took a deep breath and knelt down. Meeting his gaze, he kept his hands visible and spoke gently as if cornering a wild animal. Knowing his the Hylian, he could very well bolt like one if he overstepped his care,_ _

__“Wild, what is the matter? Why are you refusing to rest? As I recall, you have no pressing quest to attend to at this moment.”_ _

__To that, Wild shook his head. Then, hesitatingly pointed at the notebook he had been holding onto. Sidon tilted his head, looking at the man inquiringly; silently asking for explanation. Wild sighed, the action nearly propelling him into another coughing fit. Instead of speaking, he held the book out to Sidon._ _

__The prince looked down at the worn journal; it’s cover glued misaligned back to it’s front; as it had been torn up once. The pages were uneven, frilled with some of edges black and curled as if burnt, others patchy and stained in an assortment of colors. It was a sight to make any librarian, yet from the way Wild held it to him so delicately, Sidon could not help but feel that the journal had been treated with the utmost care. With the strange, unique and at times, wholly warm way that Wild cared about things. He took it gingerly, careful with his claws, as he flipped it over delicately._ _

__Inside were some surprisingly well-organized notes. Sidon flipped through them; eyes roving over multiple sketches of a sailcloth with different date marks and notes. Some of them were highly worrying such as;  
 _Day 10, broken several bones, cloth not big enough to support weight- shouldn’t jump from tower next time. _  
Others, a quiet peek into the man’s thoughts; _Day 34, Saw first horse come back to Lon Lon ranch; named it after Saria because it was green. (Note; Green horses don’t exist, Saria fell into a lake and was covered in algae. (Note 2; Fell in lake today, we match now.)____ _

______Aside from personal notes; the rest of the pages were covered in sketches and notes all regarding the recent changes that had been implemented into Hyrule as of late. Blueprints for a ranch, designs of a sailcloth, ideas that had been written down and scribbled out. And most important of all; pages upon pages of notes detailing out histories that even Sidon, with all of his tutoring, had never heard off. Furrowing the Zora equivalent of a brow, he looked up to Wild who was watching him with rapt attention._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I do not understand my friend.” He spoke quietly._ _ _ _ _ _

______The Hylian squirmed a moment where he stood; as if deciding between words or signs, before he cleared his throat and took back the book. Speaking softly, “I’m not done.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He flipped through the pages, thumbing through the histories in the well-worn journal. His voice wavering, “These are, all the heroes before me.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“The heroes from the prophecy?” Sidon inquired, watching Wild carefully._ _ _ _ _ _

______“And before.” He nodded, “A long time ago. They were forgotten after…” His voice caught in his throat and for a moment, he debated telling Sidon the truth. Telling him about the adventures they had all gone on, the many worlds and Hyrules he had visited. About Princess Ruta and how different the Zora were then to now. And maybe he would, one day in the future, but not now. Swallowing, he continued, “After the Calamity and I.. gotta make sure they’re remembered. Make sure they have.. a legacy.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He took in a deep shuddering breath, “Its already been a few years. And I’m barely even done. Barely even started. There’s still so much I need to do for them, so much I want to do. I can’t rest yet. I’m their legacy and I-“_ _ _ _ _ _

______He trailed off, out of breath from his cold. Wondering If Sidon thought him a madman with his stubborn insistence on his task. Wild wouldn’t blame him; it was unlikely he could understand just how much the heroes had meant to him. Just how driven he was to preserve their legacy and ensure they were still around in some small part today; even in a story, a myth, a legend. In some way that he couldn’t lose them again even if he were to lose all his memories tomorrow... The world would remember for him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Wild.” The Zora’s quiet voice brought him out of his thoughts. He met those golden eyes tentatively, as the prince took his hands gently. Nodding as his gaze darted down._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I understand.” Sidon said softly, lifting his head to glance over at the center of the domain. From where they stood, Mipha’s statue shone brightly, gleaming as the sunlight hit the luminous center of it. Wild followed his gaze, swallowing as his eyes lighted upon the figure of the Zora. Hazy memories swam to the surface, though he was no longer afraid of their presence. Link had known Mipha; perhaps even loved Mipha, but Wild was not Link._ _ _ _ _ _

______He wanted to know Mipha, he even liked the stories of her, but he was not the Link that knew her. And, neither of them were responsible for what happened to her. That had been such a hard lesson to learn, but one he strived not to let himself forget. Still, it felt, difficult not to blame himself seeing the way Sidon looked to her. So solemn, so.. sad.._ _ _ _ _ _

______“When she left, the domain did everything in their power to ensure she wasn’t forgotten.” The Zora murmured, “The statue, her trident, her story in stone. And I, could not bear to let her be forgotten either. Even though the memories our time together are hazy, she was my sister, and if I could not bring her back, then I’d do my best to make sure the memory of her never died.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The prince sighed, tearing his eyes away from the statue. Smiling, as he blinked away the wetness in his eyes, “She would’ve scolded me and my father, for being so extravagant. She was never one for over-indulgent ceremony, but I’m sure had it been me, she would’ve forged a legacy far beyond what I deserve.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You are very kind Wild,” Sidon turned his gaze back to him, “Very kind and very loving to wish to ensure your predecessors are remembered fondly, but I am certain. They with the Hero’s spirit, would have been as kind as you. And if they were here now, I’m also sure they would not want you to work yourself to an early grave. And if any of them were in your place now, I’m sure you would think the same. Now come. I’ve seen all you’ve done so far in these ‘few years’, my most precious friend. A few moments away to rest and relax won’t take away from that nor change the future I see you determine to make.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Wild looked away, Sidon’s words hitting deeper than the prince could ever know. The image of Twilight’s nagging voice, Time’s disapproving looks and the protests of everyone else if he were to push himself while ill came to mind. They cared for him a lot; he knew. He had experienced their care firsthand, and he missed it terribly. Sidon was right, they wouldn’t…want him to ignore his health. He was really being… stubborn and silly.______

______  
“Anyhow,” Sidon continued, grinning widely and breaking the somber atmosphere, “There are a few new dishes I have been wanting to test out on you anyhow. I believe I have finally perfected that ‘Salmon Risotto’ you taught me. You see, I finally worked out that you have to process the grain before it becomes rice!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Wild couldn’t help but return his friend’s enthusiasm with a humorous wrinkling of his nose, remembering Sidon’s first attempt to recreate the dish. His shoulders dropping as he nodded to that thinly veiled excuse to get him to eat and rest. Perhaps he’d let Sidon ‘trick’ him into seeing a healer as well later._ _ _ _ _ _

______As he followed him, they passed by Mipha’s statue once more. Wild stopped a moment to stare at her visage, Sidon stopping as well._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I wish.. they were here.” He said softly, hugging the journal tight against his chest, “I wish your sister was here too.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Me too.” Sidon answered quietly. Resting a hand on the champion’s shoulders. His voice was sad, but his eyes gazed with nothing but fondness at her, “Let us honor their legacies, by remembering them and by taking care of ourselves, shan’t we Wild?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The Hylian smiled and nodded._ _ _ _ _ _


	9. Warrior's Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wild and Warrior bond over being soldiers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellow! Didja miss me? I guess this was a good time to post Warrior's part, what with Age of Calamity out and all. I'm waiting for it to go on a good price before getting it, though I know the story already. No spoilers; other than the marketing was quite misleading. I think it's an alright story, but I do think that I prefer Wild Link, if only because he got more character development. Check out my instagram @Tene_Draws to see a comic I made about it. 
> 
> Anyway, I don't think BOTW link is in Hyrule warriors the original, if only because his clothes are just a costume and not the actual character. 
> 
> There wasn't alot I could find on Warriors, but I always thought he'd be a bit more refined compared to other Links. A bit more well-spoken and mature. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I didn't leave you waiting too long!

_Muscle memory was good. It had saved his life more than a handful of times. Even if his memories were shoddy and full of holes, muscle memory told him how to swing a sword, how to parry a blow before he even saw it. Sure, it didn’t teach him how to surf on a rock with use of Stasis from the Sheikah slate, or how to decimate an entire lake population with a bomb, but it was still good._

_It was muscle memory that helped him slay the empowered Bokoblin, muscle memory that allowed him to dodge it’s arrow when it first attacked. Muscle memory when Warrior came up and clapped him on the shoulder and said, “You were made to be a soldier!” making his whole body stiffened. His hand shooting up in a salute to his temple as he turned to face Warrior. The man so surprised that he had taken a step back. And Wild, so shocked, that he had dropped his blade immediately._

_As he went for his sword, he was struck suddenly by the memory of a meltingly hot day; the sun trained down on a field of soldiers. The smell of sandalwood; broken and splintered as the harsh glint of metal blades embedded themselves in the necks of pitiful training dummies. Somewhere overhead, the graveled voice of his captain barked orders over the sweltering heat at them. Despite it all, his hands felt clammy clad in the armored gloves of-_

_“Wild!” He startled, reaching for a sword that wasn’t there before he realized that it was Warrior’s face right in front of his, Warrior’s hands on his shoulders shaking him gently. He blinked the memory away from his eyes, focusing on the man as he led him over to a felled log. Sitting him down on it before he started checking him methodically. It took Wild a minute to realize he was looking for any injuries._

_“I’m fine.” He croaked out, his throat feeling dry. Warriors glanced at him, but continued to check him over before he nodded affirmatively and sat down on the log next to him._

_“Another memory?” He asked._

_Wild nodded, hesitated. Usually, he talked to Twilight after a ‘blackout’. He was so used to Twilight being the one by his side, muscle memory again failed him as he murmured; “I remember being- he, he was a soldier.”_

_He bowed under the weight of his own words, pressing his hands against his face as he breathed. The memory had been short, but it had hit him harder than they usually did. He wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t crying. It hadn’t been a bad memory; circumstances aside, it had just been.._

_“I’m sorry.” He blinked, looking up from his hand to where Warrior sat; staring down at his own blade. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said you were made to be a soldier.”_

_“It’s okay, I-“_

_“That’s what triggered it right?” Warriors turned to him. His gaze so bright and clear that Wild had to look away. He couldn’t deny that._

_“No, I should be sorry. I froze, and, if that happened during a fight.. I, you would’ve liked him more. He was so different from me, he was really made to be a soldier.”_

_There was a beat of silence. Wild looked down at his thumbs, thinking the conversation was over, when,_

_“I don’t mean to be rude, but.. do you really believe you’re two separate people? Do you… not like being a soldier?”_

_“No!” He spluttered a little, scratching the back of his head as he fumbled for an answer that would be accurate, “I-He.. Zelda says that he liked following his father’s footsteps. He liked… being in soldier, sometimes he was reckless, sometimes he even looked out for monsters to fight on his own if he could and I-I like.. doing that too, sometimes. When, when I remember being him, I don’t… dislike what he did either, I just, I like being who he was, sometimes, and then others- Sorry, this must be so confusing. It just feels like I’m-“_

_“-Split into two different people?” Warriors provided._

_Wild nodded slowly, “Sorry, that must sound… crazy.”_

_“Well, I’ve actually got more experience with that than you think.” Warriors chuckled, but the sound wasn’t jovial as he took a breath. Nodding to Wild’s words, “But, whether you are both separate people or if you grew up from who you were, I think, at least from my experience, you’re stronger together. And, you know, I did misspeak earlier about you being made to be a soldier.”_

_Wild watched curiously as Warriors unraveled the scarf around his neck. Holding it gingerly in his hands as he stared down at it, continuing, “No one is made to be a soldier. I forgot just how much discipline, training and skill it takes to be one. That’s what ‘he’ had definitely, but you.”_

_He paused again, looking over at Wild. His gaze as soft as his smile, a look that the captain didn’t often share with others, “You definitely have the heart of one. Whether it’s his or yours, I’m proud to fight next to someone like you; who would do anything to protect those you care about, even when it isn’t something you have to do. You wear your scars as a trophy of victory over death. You weren’t made to be a soldier, but you are fit to be one, but I won’t call you that anymore if you don’t like it. You’re just as fit to be a cook, a wild man, a mix of it all or whatever you set your desire to be.”_

_Warriors reached up and clapped his hand on Wild’s shoulder again. The latter sitting stunned at Warrior’s words, eyes wide as he stared off at the battlefield. Gaze falling over the blade he had dropped, the other’s words ringing in his ears. ‘His’ discipline and skill and, his own heart. Was it really that easy? Could one person be more than two people? Could he fit into more than one bracket of himself? Had he grown or was it.. just.._

_The questions buzzed in his head relentlessly, but it was, for all things considered, a pleasant buzz compared to how it usually was when he questioned his own identity. He didn’t have all the answers, yet but.. this was a good start. He met Warrior’s smile with his own. The man nodding before he stood up, “Alright, we should be heading back to the others before they send the wolf after us.”_

_Wild followed, mockingly saluting Warriors as he joked, “Aye Aye Captain.”_

_Prompting the taller man to laugh, clapping Wild one last time one the back, remarking, “We may not be soldiers in the same battalion, but we are surely brothers in arms.”_   
.  
.  
.  
He stood in the great hall of the castle. The reconstruction efforts had been going smoothly, in part largely thanks to the repurposing of the Guardian carcasses into building machinery. Zelda was really putting her heart into her research and inventing. He couldn’t help but smile as he ran his fingers over a well worn pillar, she was rebuilding Hyrule in her own way.

“Wild!” A joyful shout of his name drew his attention. He turned to see Zelda bounding up to him. She never seemed any less excited to see him. He almost felt a little bad he hadn’t brought anything to gift her with this time. He had come with an offer though. Hugging her as she came to him, he pulled back, met her eyes and said,

“I’ll do it.”

All at once, Zelda’s eyes brightened. Her ears twitching up as she beamed, “Really? You will? I mean, you’ve considered it carefully off course, but this isn’t something you’re obligated to do. You’ve done more than enough for Hyrule already. If you refused, I’d be more than fine with it, you know, Wild.”

She spoke so earnestly, the Hylian couldn’t help but laugh a little at her worry. Shaking his head, he met her gaze again and said firmly, “No, I’ll do it, I’ll train the next knights of Hyrule. Or at least try to, but..”

He had the gall to look the slightest bit sheepish, “On one condition….”  
.  
.  
.  
All Wild usually did was give a wave and a nod to Thadd on his way into Hateno village. Today though, he approached the alert man with a proposition.

“Nuh uh. No way Buster! Who would guard the village if I’m away? Guard business is serious business! No time to join the Hylian knights!” The man grumbled, sticking the pole of his pitchfork firmly into the ground to emphasize his point, “This isn’t harrowing work, but it’s important!”

Wild smiled and only nodded to his words, but signed back to him, “Well, actually, we’ll be training the first batch of knights close to the roads around Hateno. You wouldn’t have to go very far and you’d still be seeing whoever heads this way, in fact, there’d be a whole bunch of people guarding the way. And you could be an even better guard if you trained to be a knight. You wouldn’t have to leave Hateno, unless there was an emergency.”

The man made another grumbling noise watching the shorter boy sign, but the gruffness in his face seemed to falter for a second, before he hurriedly shook his head and repeated, “Nope, no can do Buster.”

Wild’s brow furrowed. His hands pausing, he had thought of all people Thadd might be eager to train as a knight. The man was so dutiful after all, guarding the village day and night. His presence so cemented in his roost that people probably just forgot he was there half the time. Still, he wouldn’t force him. All, the same, he signed a simple, “Why not?”

Thadd fidgeted, still avoiding his gaze before his shoulder’s dropped. A long sigh escaping the man, “Look, I’m not cut out to be a knight. I was born a farmer, for as long as I can remember. I only took up guard duty cuz the village needed someone to keep an eye out for monsters. Sure I’ve been in this post a while, but it’s only because I want to protect my home, not cuz I’m made to be a soldier of Hyrule!”

The shorter Hylian smiled, met Thadd’s eyes again and signed quietly, “No ones made to be a soldier. They learn to be one through a lot of discipline, training and skill to be one, but you, you definitely have the heart to be one. Protecting your village because you had to, not because you wanted to. I hope, you’d be willing to be a farmer and a soldier at the same time, but if you don’t want to, then thank you enough for always guarding this village with all your energy.”

Wild gave a final nod to the man. Smiling at him and satisfied with what he had said. Turning, he waved at him in goodbye, ready to head out to recruit other Hylians when a shout rang out behind him.

“Hey! Wait!”  
.  
.  
.  
“Are you sure Wild? You know you don’t have to.” Zelda was still fussing over him. He hummed, good naturedly and nodded, the metal armor he wore clinking at the movement. Licking his lips, he took a breath and said,

“It’s okay. I want to. They should.. hear their captain speak and I, can’t be a good captain if I can’t talk in battle.”

That didn’t ease the worry in Zelda’s eyes, but she stepped back and nodded, “Alright, but remember to drink plenty of water. You haven’t used your voice a lot recently, so you need to take extra care of your throat. And don’t strain yourself. You need time to get used to it again and-“

“Zelda.” He cut her off before she could speak herself out of breath, nodding towards the battalion of Hylians standing in neat rows just a few shields away from them. All of them dressed in gleaming silver armor, a bright blue tunic draped over their fronts; the symbol of Hyrule’s crest emblazoned in bright reds, oranges and yellows. The spitting image of a scarf that once flowed majestically in the heat of battle. Wild smiled as he gave Zelda one last reassurance, before stepping up to the ragtag group before him; farmers, shopkeepers, merchants and all alike; united under a single crest for the protection of Hylians.

Briefly, Wild thought he caught the edges of a memory. Of being stood amongst a similar group of soldiers and knights. Looking up to their captain under a day so bright, it burned pride into their memories. The memory brought back a smile, a quiet reassurance and a small part of himself that perhaps wasn’t who he was now, but who he carried with him as a cherished friend.

Holding his head high, he pulled out his sword from it’s sheath and held it aloft to the sun as he cleared his throat and addressed the crowd, “My fellow Hylians! From here onwards, you will begin your training as official knights of Hyrule! You will be honor bound to protect and defend all who call this land their home! But most of all! From today, you don the colors of a great warrior who once stood in your place! A hero that once defended his own home to the utmost of his ability! Today, and here on out, you carry on his legacy and you will know his story!”  
.  
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Sometimes, he wondered how come he hadn’t been summoned to Warrior’s world. After hearing how Warrior had bridged the gap between worlds and timelines, he had secretly hoped, maybe one day he would be swept up in the epic battles that Warrior had spoken of. More than ever, he just wanted to see and speak to Warrior again. Maybe he already had, but Hylia had made him properly forget this time. Maybe, it just wasn’t a fight that he had to fight.

In the end, Warrior won anyway right? So that was all that really mattered. He didn’t dwell on it too much, he had a whole battalion of knights and soldiers to train after all. He was sure Warriors would probably be appalled at his conduct as a captain anyway.

In truth, his methods were a bit unorthodox; his own brand of wild sprinkled into Warrior’s own carefully planned tactics and strategy. The first batch of soldiers were renowned warriors, if perhaps a little bit of wildcards. It worked to their favor in combating monsters.

It did take a few ‘generations’ of soldiers and some very patient captains in order to breed out all the collateral damage, but by the end of a few years, the Hylian army was just as proud and refined as that of the other species. The other races seemed to like sparring against the Hylians as well, if only because it often led to the development of new strategies and tactics in order to match the… ‘creativeness’ of the Hylians.

Wild couldn’t have been prouder. Zelda offered to give him a rank above the captains themselves, but he had to decline. Honestly, glad to have someone else with a bit more penchant for following orders to take the ranks. He was glad enough to be a captain, and to be himself when he was off duties in the depths of nature. Embracing his wildness to the fullest. The Hylian knights already had a ‘hero’ to follow anyway.

The warrior of Hyrule. Every soldier seemed proud to wear his colors. To exchange stories of his feats in battle; taking out a hundred monsters in one go one would say. No no, I heard it was two hundred, another would say. Their stories so heavily exaggerated, it was hard to decipher the truth of it and Wild didn’t look to correct them. As far as he was concerned, Warriors deserved to have his feats magnified, especially since he had to cut all mention of combined worlds out of the story anyway.

And Zelda? Well, she seemed glad to know that this ‘warrior’ had been a proud soldier, who trained hard, followed most of the rules and favored actual battle tactics over riding a stasised tree into battle wearing and holding nothing but a flaming branch. So, she very much didn’t mind that little addition to their history nor the precedent it set amongst their first generation of soldiers.

Though, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered at all what stories were passed around, because in the end, what mattered most was that the people were safe. That the colors the soldiers wore became an emblem of safety that people could run to, and that monsters would cower from. People could sleep safer at night, knowing there was a force amongst Hyrule that protected it’s people. That stood guard outside villages and would not hesitate to help those who needed it, even if it went above and beyond their duties.

And, perhaps, far far away, in a place set far outside the known timeline, a sorceress would let an old warrior peer past the gates to see it. A precedent borne out of an influence he didn’t even know he had, and a brother in arms that’d he be more than proud to have.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is heavily appreciated!


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